From France and Back Again
by myfaircorrina
Summary: When Draco Malfoy turns sixteen, he transfers to Hogwarts from Beauxbaton Academy of Magic. He is immediately pursued by Harry Potter, who is determined to become his friend. Also featuring Ron with poor health and the overly aggressive Crabbe and Goyle. AU. Voldemort never existed.
1. Chapter 1

_Hi. This is my first fanfic and I have no idea what I am doing so please, don't be too harsh. ^^  
Hopefully it will turn out okay but if it doesn't I can at least say I tried._

_It is rated M, just to be sure. I don't expect it to be that mature since I have no idea how to write that stuff.  
_

_Enjoy!  
_

_.,._

**Chapter One**

"Hey", the boy said, looking slightly breathless. "Wow, you do walk fast, don't you?"

"What?" Draco asked, confused. They were standing in the middle of the corridor with students hurrying past them, most of them late for their lessons.

"You've got the whole sprinting-without-really-sprinting-thing going on, you know? I mean, I've been running after you since we left the Great Hall and the whole time you were just kind of strolling along and the distance between us never got smaller. Until now, of course", the boy finished lamely.

Draco nodded, feeling slightly awkward. He had no idea what the boy wanted from him. He didn't recognise him so he had to be from another House and now he was just staring at him with this expectant look, like a puppy waiting for a bone, and Draco had no bone to give him. "Well, I'm late", he began, using the oldest excuse in the book to get away from someone you met on the street but didn't really want to speak with.

"Oh, right! Sure, I understand", the boy said, nodding vigorously. "Me too, in fact. I just wanted to welcome you, you know. To the school." He held out his hand.

Draco's mouth fell open and he offered his own hand only to have it grabbed and shaken forcefully.

"I'm Harry. Harry Potter." The boy said, releasing Draco's hand and adjusting his round glasses, which had slid down his nose during the wild handshake.

"Draco", Draco said weakly, ducking his head in a stupid half-bow he would most likely kick himself repeatedly for later. "Malfoy."

"Well then." Harry coughed, ran his fingers through his already too messy hair and grinned sheepishly. "Welcome to Hogwarts, Draco Malfoy."

Before Draco could reply, a whirl of brown and curly hair appeared at Harry's side and suddenly Harry was being pulled away, into the flow of students. He caught Draco's eye and yelled: "See you around, Malfoy!" before disappearing completely in the mass of dark robes. Draco flexed his fingers on the hand that had been in Harry's grasp and smiled slightly before hoisting his bag further up on his shoulder and continuing to class.

.,.

"Who was that?"

Harry tried to pull himself away from Hermione's tight grip as they hurried down the stairs that lead to the dungeons. "The new guy from last night and ouch! You're killing my arm."

"Which one?" Hermione asked, ignoring Harry's pathetic attempts to free himself.

"What do you mean?"

"It was the Sorting, Harry. There were a lot of them."

"Merlin!" Harry snorted. "The transfer student, of course! Honestly. I'd never chat up a First Year. I'm _sixteen. _They are babies."

"'Chat up'?" Hermione turned her head towards him briefly and he caught the hint of a smile before she looked away.

"Yeah, well..." Harry trailed off as they approached the classroom. This was not a discussion he wanted the rest of his class and a bunch of random Hufflepuffs, who were waiting for Snape by the closed door, to overhear.

Hermione, reading his mind as she always seemed to do, swiftly changed the subject. "- and that's what I wrote on the last question." She halted her stride beside Seamus, leaned against the wall and dived into her book bag. She always carried two bags, where ever she went. One was for parchment and quills, and the other one was for books, not all of them related to school. She had a book for every occasion and it was not unusual for her to bring at least three books for their regular, one hour long breakfast.

"What's that?" Seamus blurted, giving Hermione a sharp look. "Did you say something about the last question?"

"Yeah", Hermione began, looking up at him just as a rustle in the front of the line told them that Snape was approaching.

They straightened up and followed the others into the classroom.

"So, I understand Mr Weasley is not here?" Snape said, after having checked everybody off on his class list and handed out the book they would be using this year.

Harry kept himself from rolling his eyes as he gave Snape the obvious answer: "No."

"He is sick, professor." Hermione piped in hurriedly.

"That is unfortunate", Snape said tonelessly, shuffling around the parchments on his desk. "He will miss a lot of valuable information this first day. Perhaps he will never catch up and be forced to take the course again, next year."

"I will give him all my notes!" Hermione said, a note of panic evident in her voice. "I'm sure he will be all right!"

"Yes, I am sure your notes will be sufficient for him to pass the course, at least", Snape said coolly and Harry could tell, by the way Hermione suddenly seemed to go stiff beside him, that Snape's hidden insult had not passed her by.

.,.

"Do you want to know what Harry did today?"

Hermione sat down on Ron's bed, handing him the huge pile of notes she'd managed to create during the short, introductory lesson.

Ron frowned at them before dumping them on the floor beside the bed. "What did he do?"

"He put the moves on the new boy, the transfer." Hermione turned her head towards Harry, grinning as she spoke. "He looked completely awestruck after we left, like he couldn't believe his eyes."

Harry rolled his eyes in reply, sitting down on his own bed and pulling off his shoes. Ron coughed loudly and painfully, just barely covering his mouth with the back of his hand and Hermione looked concerned. "Perhaps you should go and see Madame Pomfrey."

"No", Ron said hoarsely, gesturing at a small bottle at his bedside table. "I've got the cough syrup from her already, I'm fine."

Hermione nodded, but still looked unsure. She reached out to pat Ron's hand and he flushed slightly at the gesture. Harry observed them in silence, thinking that there had to be more going on under the surface.

.,.

"Hey there, new kid!"

Draco immediately recognised the voice, Harry's voice, soon followed by Harry himself, falling down on the chair next to his. Draco was sitting in the library, the only place in Hogwarts he did not feel ashamed to be sitting alone, reading. Being the new kid was no easy thing. Draco had never been easygoing, had never made friends easily. He had a few friends back home in France, but they were all children of his parent's friends and not anyone he really, truly liked. Now he was sixteen and completely alone at a school full of strangers who could not care less about him and, quite frankly, he hated it.

"Hi. Harry, right?"

Harry's answering smile shone brighter than the sun. "Yes. You remembered."

"Of course", Draco said. "You made quite an impression."

"Well, I try." Harry grinned and reached forwards, grabbing the book from under Draco's hands and flipping it over so that he could see the cover. "Wow, this title is like longer than any book I've ever read", he said, frowning. "You must be really smart."

Draco raised his eyebrows in amusement. "So you cannot read long titles if you are not smart?"

"Nope", Harry said, handing the book back to Draco, now closed. "I know this for a fact."

"Is that so?"

"Yes, my friend Hermione, you met her the other day, well actually you didn't really meet her but she was the one who, you know, hauled me away, anyway, she reads a lot, you'd actually like her, I think, and all her books have these very long titles, not as long as yours though, and titles under the titles and titles under the titles under the titles..." Harry trailed off, pressing his lips together and squinting. "Sorry. I talk a lot."

"I noticed." Draco smiled.

Harry smiled back and there was a brief moment where none of them said anything. Harry's hands were resting on the table in front of him. Draco's were holding his book. He thought of Harry's green eyes and whether he should excuse himself, if the conversation was over, if he was supposed to say something, if Harry wanted to leave. All those thoughts spinning in his head were normal signs of what was coming. The paralysing realisation that he had done something wrong, said something wrong, broken the social rules, made a fool out of himself. He had never been good at social interactions, he never knew what to say or how to act. His parents called him shy but Draco knew that it was more than that. It was a sickness and a handicap. He welcomed the feeling of disappointment and self-loathing that washed over him and averted his eyes, staring down at his book instead.

"I should go."

"Wh- okay." Harry stood up so quickly that his chair almost fell over and pushed his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. "S-so, I guess I'll see you around?"

Draco nodded once and forced himself to smile at the black haired boy in front of him. "See you around." He turned around, his cloak whirling around his legs, and walked out of the library as fast as he could go without running.

Harry stayed where he was, watching the blonde boy go, and when the doors had closed behind him he shrugged, mostly to himself, and decided to go see what Hermione was up to and possibly to force her to solve the riddle that was Draco Malfoy.

.,.

"So he just left."

"Yes! He just left! One moment we were staring into each others eyes, you know, like in films. It was totally romantic. And then he was just like, 'Uh bye!' and ran out of the library."

Hermione frowned at him, biting her lip and tapping her quill against the parchment she had been writing on. He had found her a couple of bookshelves away, furiously scribbling, working on the paper that he had not even started yet, since it wasn't due for another week, and sat down to tell her about his mysterious encounter with Draco Malfoy. "Sounds a little strange."

"I know, right?" Harry said, a little too loudly, earning him a glare from the librarian. He threw his hands up in exasperation.

"Maybe he doesn't like you?"

"What?" Harry said incredulously. "What are you saying?"

"That maybe he doesn't like you and is bothered by your behaviour. Maybe he thinks that your behaviour is bordering on stalking," Hermione said lightly.

Harry gaped at her. He could not believe his ears. "Is that what _you _think?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and shook her head. "No, of course not. Though you might want to consider the fact that he could be straight."

"He's not", Harry said immediately.

"Are you sure?"

"No, well, yeah – kind of, he doesn't _seem _straight at least..."

"Well, as long as you're sure", Hermione said ironically. "But _if_ he _was _straight, in a completely hypothetical way, he might not appreciate a strange guy coming up to him and staring into his eyes for many silent minutes, you know? He might find that a little discomforting and perhaps even a bit rude."

"_Rude?_" Harry exclaimed as if he'd never heard anything like it before. He slumped back in his seat, balancing on the two back legs of his chair and crossing his arms in front of his chests. It was his sulking look, a look which Hermione was all too familiar with.

"I'm not saying that this is the case, but you might want to keep that in mind. You don't want to scare him so much that he runs away from you... oh wait, that already happened." She cocked her head to the side, smiling brightly.

"Very funny", Harry muttered, though he couldn't help but smile as Hermione started laughing.

A couple of minutes later they were both ushered out of the library by the stern librarian.

.,.

Malfoy had done a bit of research before his transfer from Beauxbaton to Hogwarts. For instance, he'd read _Hogwarts – A history_ front to back several times and he knew all about the enchanted ceiling in the Great Hall and the four founders. That is why he had felt a bit disheartened when the Sorting Hat had put him in Slytherin, the house which, if he'd understood it right, was the home of ruthless, cunning students with brilliant minds who knew what they wanted and did not stop for anything in their pursuit of it. He did not feel particularly brilliant and he knew when to give up and adjust instead of fighting mercilessly until he won.

On top of this, he did not feel any real connection to his House mates. They had small, dark eyes and weird, knowing smiles and they mostly kept to themselves in small, seemingly pre-determined, groups. Only three Slytherin's had spoken to him his first week at Hogwarts and while they seemed nice and non-threatening, they also seemed a bit silly.

One of them was a girl called Pansy Parkinson. She was outgoing in that loud, in-your-face-kind-of-way, and she had a rich body language and a loud laugh. The other two were Crabbe and Goyle. He did not know their surnames and since everyone else seemed to call them Crabbe and Goyle, so did he. They'd taken to Draco the first night, much like kittens that had been separated from their mother too early, and had started following him around, mimicking his every action.

For instance, when Draco ate breakfast, so did they, and they all miraculously finished at the same time, every morning, and when Draco sat in the library, reading for hours, they sat beside him or a couple of tables away, staring at the bookshelves with vacant expressions. When Draco ran out of the library after making a fool of himself in front of Harry Potter, so did they, albeit a little later since they did not notice that Draco was gone until he had already exited the room.

Draco had been uncomfortable at first, not used to the attention, but after a week of eating breakfast and hanging out in the library or out by the pond together, he had started to grow accustom to the idea of having them around. It was almost as if they were his friends. At least it must seem like it from an outsiders perspective.

.,.

It had been four days since he had spoken with Draco in the library and Harry was going insane. He had tried to catch the other boy's eye in the Great Hall and during the lessons they had together, but the blonde either did not see him or pretended not to. Harry had refused to believe Hermione when she'd suggested that Draco had been insulted by his behaviour but now he wasn't so sure. Maybe he'd come across too strong? After all, despite what he'd told Hermione, he was in no way certain of the other boy's sexual preferences. If Draco was one of those straight guys who were scared to death by anything remotely gay it probably hadn't been such a good idea to stare deeply into his eyes like Harry had done.

He felt sick to his stomach at the thought of Draco being repulsed by him and decided he had to apologise.

This, however, was easily said than done because Draco had suddenly acquired a set of bodyguards.

.,.

"Hi Draco", Pansy said sweetly, sinking down on the bench next to him. She scooted closer, pressing her side against his, and leaned over his plate to grab a bottle of pumpkin juice.

Draco leaned back slightly to give her more room. He was chewing on a mouthful of the most delicious bread he had ever tasted. In fact, every meal here was the most delicious meal he had ever eaten. The food at Hogwarts was miles better than what they'd been served at Beauxbaton, which had been made of mostly sugar and white flour.

"Hi Pansy, how are you?"

"Oh, just fine." Pansy poured herself some juice and put the bottle down between their plates. "And you?"

"I'm fine", Draco said, though he felt anything but fine. He was still haunted by the failed conversation in the library, especially at night, when he was trying to sleep. Unwanted thoughts had so much better access to his brain when it was dark and silent around him. Also, he had a stomach ache.

"Good, good." Pansy said uninterestedly and turned her face towards his. She was sitting so close, her lips almost touched his cheek. He debated with himself whether he should stay where he was or move closer to Goyle, who was on his other side. He did not know which one was more preferable, being pressed against Pansy or being pressed against Goyle. They were two sides of the same coin. "I was wondering, Draco... What are you doing tonight?"

"Studying", he answered, almost automatically. He didn't know there was anything else to do in the evenings besides studying. Perhaps reading, but then again, the library closed at nine and he didn't want to sit in the Common Room, where sitting alone was almost equal to being infected by a rare but deadly disease.

"Oh." Pansy looked crestfallen. "That sounds nice."

"Yes."

"So, I guess that means you wouldn't be up for doing something else tonight?"

Draco looked up from his plate. "Like what?"

"Like, I don't know, taking a stroll?"

"Taking a stroll?" Draco echoed, scowling. "Where?"

"Outside."

"At night? In the dark?"

Now it was Pansy's turn to scowl. "There are lights, you know. Lanterns. Around the lake."

"Oh, okay", Draco said, not understanding how this was any reason to go out into the dark, cold night when there was the Common Room and the Dorms, both of which had fully working fireplaces that magically lit every evening at five, to hang out in.

"It's actually quite romant-"

"Hi!"

Pansy frowned at the boy who had suddenly materialised in front of them. She did not appreciate being interrupted, especially when the interrupter was a Gryffindor.

"Hello", Draco said slowly. He had not expected Harry Potter to appear. If he had, he'd made sure to get away quickly before he did so. He'd noticed that the boy had tried to get his attention a few times during the past days but he had been sure that he would stop if Draco only ignored him long enough. Now he was sitting in front of him, grinning as if Draco was a good friend he had not seen in years.

"Are you enjoying your breakfast?"

"Yes." Draco coughed. "Yes. Especially the bread."

"Oh?"

"Yes. It's excellent."

Harry smiled, almost fondly, and Draco suddenly felt incredibly self-conscious. He put the piece of bread he'd been eating on the plate, wiping the corners of his mouth with a cloth.

Harry watched his movements and then opened his mouth to say something when a harsh voice broke the silence: "Who are you?"

Both Harry and Draco turned to the left, where Goyle was sitting, glaring furiously.

"Sorry?" Harry said, confused.

"I said: Who are you?" Goyle grunted. Draco noticed he was squeezing an orange in his right hand; juice was seeping between his fingers.

"Me? Uh – I'm Harry", Harry said, smiling uncertainly.

"You're in Gryffindor, aren't you?"

"Yeah." Harry laughed once. "What gave me away? Was it the red and golden tie?"

Goyle ignored him. "Why are you talking to Draco?"

"Uh." Harry met Draco's eyes briefly. Turning back to Goyle, he said: "Because I wanted to. Look, is there a problem?"

"Yes, there is a problem!" Goyle bellowed suddenly, standing up and throwing the squished orange at Harry, who barely managed to jump out of the way before being hit. "You cannot just come here and speak with Draco! YOU ARE A GRYFFINDOR!"

Harry stared at him, a crease slowly forming on his forehead. Goyle panted loudly, his hands clenching into small, hard balls. Draco suddenly feared he would lunge at Harry, over the table.

"Goyle – look", he started but was interrupted by Crabbe, who'd overslept and was just now coming down for breakfast.

"What are you doing, Goyle?" Crabbe asked, looking from Goyle's red face to his trembling fists.

"He's a Gryffindor!" Goyle yelled, pointing his plump finger at Harry. "He has no business at our table!"

Crabbe followed the direction of Goyle's finger and his eyes darkened at the sight of Harry sitting down with his mouth slightly open, staring at Goyle, dumbfounded. "You're a Gryffindor?"

Harry didn't move a muscle.

"Yes! _And _he's speaking with Draco!" Goyle shrieked, making everyone in his vicinity jump.

Crabbe opened his mouth, baring his teeth and Harry suddenly seemed to catch himself and jumped up from the table. "Okay, so, I think I'm gonna go." He looked at Draco, catching his eye. "So, I'll see you later?" he asked, raising his eyebrows quizzically.

"Y-yeah. See you", Draco stammered.

Harry looked pleased for a short second before turning on his heal and heading back to the Gryffindor table.


	2. Chapter 2

_Thank you so much for the alerts, and also for the review! I'm happy that somebody is interested in reading my story._

Here is chapter two! I hope you enjoy it.**  
**

.,.

**Chapter two**

"Oh Merlin, oh Merlin", Harry mumbled to himself, as he walked the short distance from the Great Hall to the library, rubbing his hands together nervously. He needed his Hermione and he needed her _now._

He found her at her usual table. He loved that about her, that she was so predictable, that he could just turn a corner and find her, waiting for him. She looked up and frowned at the expression on Harry's face, immediately understanding that something was very wrong.

"How are you?" she asked carefully, reaching out her hand and patting the chair beside her.

Harry sat down, running his fingers through his hair, deciding to get straight to the point. "I was just verbally abused by those two huge gorillas in Slytherin, Cracker and Doyle or whatever their names are."

"_What?_"

"Yeah!" Harry stared at her, wide-eyed. "It was _brutal_. I'm lucky to be alive."

"Okay." Hermione closed her books and rolled her parchment into a tight roll, pushing everything aside and putting her hands on the table, linking her fingers together. "What happened?"

"I just told you! They jumped me in the Great Hall. Just started shouting randomly, for no reason. Slytherins apparently hate Gryffindors. Who would've known." He looked down, chewing on his lower lip.

"So you didn't do anything to anger or upset them?"

"What?" Harry looked up again, glaring at her. "Why would you immediately assume I was upsetting them. I don't upset people. I'm a very not... upsetting... guy. Or gay. Whichever you prefer." He grinned at her but when she just stared at him he sighed heavily and continued: "Okay, well, I was sitting at their table.."

"What? Why?"

"Because that's where Draco is."

Hermione nodded calmly. "Sure. Draco." The hint of a smile played on her lips before she was serious again. "And?"

"And I was going to apologise for staring at him, you know. Because apparently staring is _rude_", he said pointedly, making air quotes around the word 'rude'.

"Yes, it is. And then?"

"And then, before I'd even said anything, Roy starts screaming."

"Wait, who's Roy?"

"Roy's the smaller gorilla. Pay attention", Harry snapped. "Anyway, he's like really upset that I'm sitting at his table because I'm a _Gryffindor!_" Harry continued, making his voice low and rough at the last word, trying to sound like Goyle. "And then Crackle shows up and starts staring at me like I'm food, and not in a good way, so I got out of there before things got physical."

"So you didn't get a chance to apologise?"

"No."

"Oh."  
.,.

Draco didn't know whether he should be flattered or angered by Crabbe and Goyle's outbursts. On one hand they were doing it to protect him but on the other, well, they protected him from the wrong person. However much he wanted to put distance between himself and Harry Potter, he felt a nagging sense of curiosity about the reason the boy had sat down in front of him at the breakfast table.

He was back in his Dorm, gathering the books, parchment and quills he needed for the two classes he would be attending before lunch in his worn brown leather satchel (a gift from his grandmother), and quickly glanced at himself in the mirror that was set up on the wall beside the bathroom door before heading out the door.

He hurried down the stairs, sneaking past Pansy, who was sitting in one of the soft, green armchairs with the back against him, and climbed through the portrait hole only to stumble into Harry Potter. Harry immediately reached out to steady him and Draco, almost tripping over himself again, pulled away, completely flustered. Harry must've been standing right outside the portrait which, to Draco, seemed a bit mental.

"Hi." The boy sort of waved pathetically at Draco with both hands. He looked nervous, as if he was expecting Draco to yell at him, or maybe there was another reason. "I- How are you?"

Draco glanced left and right; the corridor was completely deserted. How long had Harry been standing outside the Slytherin Common Room? And, more importantly, why? "What are you doing here?" he asked shakily, still shocked from their sudden collision.

"I'm, uh, I thought I'd walk you to class."

"Oh, okay", Draco said, confused. Of all the reasons Harry could've been standing there... "That's, um, great."

"I mean, if that's okay with you", Harry added quickly, gesturing at Draco with his hands.

Draco nodded mutely and Harry looked relieved. Then he moved his right hand towards Draco's and Draco, for a panicked second, thought the other boy wanted to hold his hand, but then, just as Draco was about to leap away, Harry was grabbing at the leather strap of his satchel and Draco understood what he was trying to do. Carry his bag. For him. Which was crazy. And even crazier was that Draco let him take the bag.

"You're not going to steal it are you?" he asked and Harry let out a shocked laugh.

"No! No. Of course not." He gave Draco a smile so warm and affectionate that he had to look away. "So." Harry cocked his head to the left. "Are we going?"

"Yeah. Sure."

They started walking, side by side, under silence. Harry was carrying Draco's bag in his left hand, the other swinging loosely back and forth by his side, in rhythm with his strides. Draco, who didn't know what to do with his hands now that he didn't have a bag to carry, alternated between crossing his arms in front of his chest and burying them in the pockets of his trousers. The latter proved to feel most natural, so he opted for keeping them in his pockets until they reached the classroom. Speaking of...

"Hey!" Draco said suddenly, making Harry jump. "Do you even know where I'm going?"

"Sure", Harry said easily. "DADA, right?"

Draco gave him a questioning look. "How did you know that?"

"Oh." The corners of Harry's mouth twitched and he kept his stare firmly fixed on the floor. "Uh, Hermione knows a girl in Slytherin and, um, she – I mean, I asked her to -" He paused, running his free hand over his head. "Nevermind." He coughed once, flashing Draco a quick smile.

Draco of course realised that the other boy had asked this Hermione to find out his schedule and he felt a strange, quite unwelcome flutter in his stomach. "So, are you planning on carrying my books to class the whole day or is it just a one-time-thing?"

Harry looked quickly at him and Draco could see his hand tightening around the leather strap on Draco's bag. "Only if you want me to", he said quietly.

Draco felt his face grow warm and turned his head around. He did not want the other boy to notice the kind of effect he had on Draco. He was cocky enough as it was. "Well, I'm going to the library later to get some new books", he said. "Heavy books. So I might take you up on that." It was meant to sound light-hearted and joking, but thanks to the hoarse quality of his voice, which was both unwanted and unintentional, it came out more like a seductive invitation.

"Sure", Harry said airily, as if it either way was fine with him, but Draco could hear the smile in his voice.

.,.

Ron was sick and tired of lying in bed all day. He'd been sick for over a week and was running out of interesting things to spend his time with. Soon he would have to resort to reading through the notes Hermione had given him after every single class she'd attended, though he hoped to Merlin it would not have to go that far.

He sighed loudly, turning his head to the side so that he could peek out of the window. It was a beautiful day and he would've loved to go outside and enjoy the autumn sun, perhaps throw rocks into the lake or hang out at Hagrid's. But _no_, he was confined to his bed until Madame Pomfrey gave him the go-ahead.

He pressed his lips together in annoyance. Everything _sucked_. _Life_ sucked. His life _completely_ sucked. He had eaten all his candy and finished every bottle of pumpkin juice and now all he could do was lie there, staring at the ceiling of his four post bed. He couldn't move even if he wanted to since his blankets had been spelled to keep him in place. Ron was certain some rule of human rights was being broken but his weak protests had only been met with an inquiry about whether Ron wanted to die instead, which, obviously, he didn't. And there it was. He was a prisoner in his own bed. _There's something to put in my memoir_, he thought.

Suddenly the door burst open, banging loudly against the wall and his messy haired best friend stormed into the Dorm. "Ron? Hey mate, you're up!" Harry slid down on the edge of Ron's bed, smiling widely.

"Well, I wouldn't exactly call this being 'up'", Ron said dryly, gesticulating to his current vertical position.

Harry shrugged happily. "I've got news."

"About the new kid?" Ron asked, even though he already knew the answer. His best friend had not been able to talk about anything else since the beginning of the semester.

"Yes!" Harry said excitedly. He pulled his legs up on the bed, hugging them with his arms and resting his chin upon his knees. "Guess what I did today?"

Ron shook his head. "What did you do?"

"I carried his bag!"

"Right." Ron nodded. "Good. Very gentleman-y."

"I thought so", Harry said proudly, as if he was the one who had invented the gesture of carrying someone's stuff for them.

"So, did he appreciate it?"

"Not really."

"But you are still happy?"

"Yes!" Harry's grin nearly broke his face. "Because he is so awesome." He untangled himself and jumped off the bed. "All right, see you!"

"Hey!" Ron shouted, because Harry was already out the door.

Harry's head, tilted to the side, became visible in the doorway. "Yes?"

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going to go and carry his bag again! He's waiting for me outside the library."

"Of course", Ron muttered to himself when Harry's head had disappeared again. He'd wished for some company but, after all, Harry was Harry.

Ron clenched his fists, closed his eyes and thought, with all his might, _I need to pee, I need to pee. _He pulled at the corners of his blanket experimentally but nothing happened. The blankets could not be fooled. He had to wait until the pumpkin juice had made its way through his system.

.,.

Draco was surprised to see Harry leaping down the stairs, two at a time, even though the boy had promised to come after checking on his sick friend. He was right on time too, Draco had only been standing there for a couple of minutes. Harry paused in front of him, grinning, and Draco handed him his bag without a word. He'd tried to get out of this whole bag-carrying-business before, but Harry had refused to listen to his protests, either changing the subject or, quite childishly, pressing his palms against his ears, effectively blocking out the sound of Draco's voice, until Draco had given up.

"So, where to?" Harry asked.

"Uh, the Common Room?" Draco hated that it had come out sounding like a question, as if he'd felt the need to check with Harry if this was an okay destination.

"Right then." Harry began walking and Draco quickly fell into step beside him.

When they reached the Slytherin Portrait, Harry halted and handed Draco his bag. Draco thanked him and Harry said that it was no problem and where the natural good bye should have followed, there was an unnatural silence instead. Draco was immediately consumed by the need to get away from the uncomfortable situation. To run, as he always did. He started to turn but Harry reached out and grabbed a hold of his arm, effectively halting his movement.

"There was something I wanted to say." Harry said, his voice low and serious.

"Y-yeah?" Draco said hoarsely, his voice cracking.

"Yeah." Harry looked away, as if he couldn't bare to look into Draco's eyes while speaking. "I'm... I'm sorry."

Draco's eyebrows knitted together in confusion. Was he apologising for carrying his bag the whole day?

"In the library", Harry explained, regarding Draco's expression warily. "When I, oh Merlin, this is going to sound silly, but my friend Hermione, she told me to say this: I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable." He blurted the words in such a way that it was more than obvious they weren't really his words, but his tone was sincere.

Draco was bewildered. He had been certain _he_ was the one that had made _Harry_ uncomfortable, what with the long silence and all, and here Harry was apologising to him as if Harry was the one at fault.

"Well, okay then", Harry said, eyeing him cautiously, and Draco realised he had been quiet and that his silence might have come across as disapproval.

"It's okay, it really is", he said quickly and the relief on Harry's face was almost unbearable.

"Really?"

"Yes." Draco ventured a smile. "Really."

"Great", Harry grinned, bouncing once on his feet before running his fingers through his hair. "Wow, I'm really happy now. I promise to never stare at you like that again, I just want to... be friends."

Draco nodded calmly even though his insides were doing all kinds of weird things. "Me too."

"Okay, wow", Harry said, grinning from ear to ear. "That's great. Wow. Okay. So, I'll see you around then? Friend", he added, mostly to himself, smiling.

Draco nodded again. His heart was racing and his palms were sweaty, making it hard to hold on to his bag. He needed to get away from this hyperactive person, he needed to think, to go over what had just happened and make some sense of it. Harry wanted to be his friend. He felt as if there was something he was missing. As if his life was a book missing one of its chapters. And he needed to write to his mother.

.,.

"So, you did it?" Hermione asked, not taking her eyes off the page in the book she was reading.

"Yes, I did it. I apologised. And now we're friends", Harry said happily.

Ron's voice came from somewhere under the blankets, muffled: "That's my boy."

Harry smiled, leaning back against his pillows and folding his arms behind his head.

.,.

_Mother,_

_I think I made a friend today. A real friend. He seems to honestly like me and I don't know why. Write back soon._

_Draco_

_P.S. Don't tell dad._


	3. Chapter 3

_Slightly shorter chapter this time. Thank you for the alerts, favorites and reviews! You make me superhappy!  
_

.,._  
_

**Chapter three**

Draco almost expected Harry to show up and offer to carry his bag the next day as well and did not bother to try to suppress his disappointment when it became clear that it wasn't the case. Harry was no where to be seen. Draco followed Pansy, Crabbe and Goyle down to the Great Hall for breakfast. His eyes flickered towards the Gryffindor table and he was startled to see a hand waving at him from the crowd of Gryffindor's. He caught Harry's laughing eyes and quickly waved back, which only made Harry smile even more. The bushy haired girl was sitting beside Harry and she observed their greeting with an expression Draco couldn't read.

Pansy's eyes narrowed. "Draco", she said sharply. "We're sitting over here." She steered him towards the Slytherin table and practically forced him to sit down. He looked over to the Gryffindor table again and saw that Harry was still looking at him. He smiled briefly, feeling incredibly self-conscious. He was not used to this. He _was not _used to this.

"Here, have some bread", Pansy said shortly, thrusting an entire loaf of bread into his hands.

"Thanks, but I don't think -" Draco began uncertainly but Pansy cut him off with an emphatic: "_Butter?_" so he gingerly accepted the butter and obediently started spreading it over the bread.

Pansy looked satisfied.

.,.

Hermione leaned into Harry, almost pressing her lips against his ear and whispered: "He keeps looking at you."

Harry smiled through a mouthful of porridge, feeling almost giddy. "Itsch nuff'n", he mumbled receiving an exaggerated roll of eyes from his friend. He swallowed. "It isn't!" He shook his head, taking a gulp of pumpkin juice from his cup. "I mean, we're friends. Nothing more."

"But he keeps _looking _at you", Hermione repeated, articulating every word carefully. "I'm your friend and I don't keep looking at you like he does. I mean, look at him – he's missed his mouth like seven times."

"Well, if you know that it must mean you're looking at him, right?" Harry said smugly. "Is there something you want to tell me, Hermione?"

"Ha ha." Hermione tipped her head from side to side. "I'm _observing, _it's completely different. As your friend I'm bound by law to make you aware about every guy that is checking you out."

"He's not '_checking me out'_", Harry protested, barely able to contain the grin spreading across his face. "He's, he just -" He glanced over at Draco who looked completely terrified, turned red and quickly angled his head in another direction. "Uh." Harry didn't dare to look at Hermione, knowing she had seen what had just happened. "He's nervous."

"Nervous. Yeah. Right."

"Actually, I think he is", Harry said, suddenly turning serious. Hermione looked at him, used to the sudden way Harry was able to switch subjects and moods. "I mean, sometimes he's all happy and joking, you know? And I'm like, this is such a nice guy, I'm happy I met him."

"Aww", Hermione said, smiling. Harry ignored her.

"Then, suddenly, he's clamped shut like a clam. Like that day in the library. I know you think I scared him with my staring or whatever, but he's been like that after I said sorry too. It's like he's a completely different person."

"Maybe he's just shy."

"Yes." Harry's eyes drifted towards the Slytherin table again. Draco was listening to something Pansy Parkinson was saying and when she laughed he smiled slightly. Harry almost winced. His smile was so beautiful it hurt. "Maybe he's just shy."

.,.

Three days passed before Draco's owl came back from France with a response from his mother. It read,

_Dearest Draco,_

_Please know that you are wonderful. There is no question about it. What happened before will never happen again and it had nothing to do with you, Draco. Just try to relax and enjoy his company. You deserve to have a friend. I did not tell your father about this though he knows I am writing to you and sends his love._

_Love always,_

_Mom_

Draco folded the letter carefully and wiped furiously at the tears suddenly streaming down his cheeks. He missed his mother and hated that there was an entire ocean between them. He wanted her to hug him and stroke his hair. He wanted to hear her calming whispers in his ear, just like the day he had returned home from school, his hair a mess and his eyes red and puffy from crying, and she had stood outside their mansion, waiting for him with arms wide open.

When it had been decided that Draco was to change schools he had begged her to come with him, and she had almost agreed before his father had stepped in, shaking his head in that superior way. She was needed by his side, he had said. And Draco would be living at the school, so there was no need for him to have his mother there since they would not be able to see each other anyway. His father did not understand that there was a difference between having your mother in England with you and having her in France. Though Draco wasn't surprised by this; his father rarely understood anything at all.

He stood abruptly and exited the Dorms. He couldn't stay inside, he had to get some air. Curfew was still a few hours away. He could sneak out and take a short walk around the lake.

.,.

Harry and Hermione were sitting in the library. Hermione was helping him with an essay, though it was more like she was writing it for him while he was staring into space, twirling his quill between his fingers. From where he was sitting, he had a clear shot of the Entrance Hall through the open doors of the library. He had chosen this table because of that and had spent the last hour hoping for Draco to walk by. The boy had hidden himself in the Slytherin Common Room ever since their classes had ended for the day and Harry was growing frustrated. He didn't know why, really. He just knew he had to see Draco and talk to him once before he went to bed. So he waited and waited for a patch of blonde hair to emerge in the doorway and had almost given up hope when it suddenly happened.

Draco walked by at a brisk pace, eyes set on the gate. He was heading outside. At this hour. Harry looked over at Hermione, who was still writing. He laid a hand on her arm and she looked up.

"I'll be right back. I'm just gonna pop outside for a second. Get some air."

"Sure", she said, having given up on getting any kind of help from Harry. "Just be back before curfew."

"Thanks." Harry grinned and leaped out of his chair, running towards the exit, feeling only a little silly. What was it with Draco that made Harry want to chase him around?

.,.

Draco walked as fast as he could over the yellowing grass outside of Hogwarts. The cool air seemed to awaken him, making his mind clearer. His eyes stung and he didn't know if it was because of the wind or because he was about to cry again. Three months until Christmas. Three months until he could see his mother again. And with her, his father. He thought of his father and a feeling of dread washed over him. What had happened at Draco's old school... His father had blamed him. Not the other boys. Him. And perhaps he was right. Perhaps there _was_ something wrong with Draco, something that made those boys hate him. He remembered the look of pure disgust on his father's face. He remembered his words, the ones about how Draco had made a spectacle of himself, how his father's reputation had been ruined, how it would take years for him to undo what Draco had done. And then he had sent him away. To another country.

Now he was crying. There was no doubt about it. He had slowed his pace, walking along the side of the lake, tears streaming, crying openly because there was nobody else around. It felt like a relief. A release from all the tension he'd felt these first weeks at a new school, not knowing anybody, completely alone. No, not _completely _alone. He had met Harry and Harry seemed to want to be his friend. But would he still want to be his friend if he knew how Draco really was?

He was so lost in thought that he yelled out loud when a hand suddenly clasped his shoulder. He whirled around, arms flailing and then... dropping, limp against his sides. "Harry?" he said in disbelief.

Harry's hand fell away and he looked guilty. "Sorry if I scared you. I called your name but you – I guess you didn't hear me." He looked searchingly into Draco's face and his eyes widened. "Are you – are you crying?"

"No!" Draco turned around, painfully aware of his thick voice. He wiped at his nose and his face with his hand, desperately trying to regain some composure.

Harry was silent for a while. Then Draco felt a hand on his arm, gently tugging, beckoning him to turn around. He did so, albeit reluctantly. Harry gazed at him, seeming to take it all in, Draco's watery eyes, running nose and puffy cheeks. Then, without taking his hand away from Draco's arm, he asked, gently: "What's wrong?"

And Draco broke. He fell forwards and Harry caught him. Harry's arms went around him and pulled him closer and Draco buried his face in Harry's neck, completely ruining his shirt with tears and snot as he cried, his whole body shaking. Harry held on and Draco cried and Harry held on and Draco cried, clutching at Harry's shirt with both of his hands. And then, after what seemed like hours, he stopped crying and they just stood there, holding each other. Draco felt Harry's mouth against the nape of his neck and Harry's warmth seemed to radiate into Draco's body, making him hot, almost sweaty, and suddenly incredibly aware of how close they were. He made an effort to pull away and Harry let him go, but his hands slid down his arms and grasped Draco's, almost as if he wanted to hold him in place.

"Better?" Harry murmured.

Draco looked down at their joint hands and nodded. He drew a shaky breath, looking at everything but Harry. "I – I guess I'm a little homesick."

Harry squeezed his hands slightly and a rush of warmth travelled from Draco's hands, along his arms and settled somewhere in his chest.

"Do you want to sit down?" Harry asked and Draco almost loved him for not asking if he wanted to talk about it because he didn't know if he could. Talk. At all.

"Yes."

Harry let go of his left hand, keeping his right in a tight grip and led him to a stone bench. "Wait," he said, releasing Draco's hand and pulling of his shirt. "Here, it's cold, sit on this."

"But -" Draco looked at Harry, now clad only in a t-shirt. "Won't you be cold?"

"Nah", Harry said, shrugging. "I'm almost always warm. It's quite annoying, actually. Especially in the summer." He placed the shirt on the bench and they sat down together, so close their sides pressed together. Harry gazed out over the lake. "It's beautiful out here. See, the stars are reflected in the surface." He pointed and Draco thought it looked like a second sky was resting beneath the real one. He smiled.

Their hands were resting at the bench between them, barely touching. Then, as if by accident, Harry's pinky brushed against Draco's and Draco found himself responding to the touch, linking their pinkies together. Draco shivered as goose bumps erupted across the skin of his arms. He knew it wasn't because it was cold. It was because of Harry.


	4. Chapter 4

_Firstly, thank you SO MUCH for the alerts, favorites and reviews! They make me so happy. *big hug*_

So, here's another chapter. Please, let me know what you think. Reviews are always appreciated and keeps me motivated to continue writing!

Enjoy!**  
**

_.,.  
_

**Chapter Four**

Harry was leading him by the hand. Outside, down to the lake. It was a Saturday. The air was cold and crispy, like it should be in the autumn. She was sitting on one of the stone benches, right by the water. Draco shrunk against Harry's side, suddenly regretting that he had agreed to this.

"I'm going to puke", Draco said and heard Harry chuckle in response.

"No, you're not. It's okay. It will be okay."

The sound of Harry's low murmur made Draco relax, but only slightly. His mind wandered back a couple of days, to the armchairs in the inner corner of the library, where they'd spent a whole afternoon together, so caught up in each other that they had forgotten everything, even dinner.

He had told Harry how hard it was for him to meet new people and Harry had told him that he would never make Draco do anything that he didn't want to do. Which was why Draco had agreed to meet Hermione. The logic was flawed, he knew this. He did not want to meet her, but when Harry had asked, he had agreed, because Harry had told him that he would never make Draco do anything that he didn't want to do and Draco had decided that he would do anything Harry wanted. That was the kind of effect Harry had on him. He made Draco illogical and stupid and all-too-willing to throw himself into the fire for the other boy.

Hermione looked up from her book – Draco automatically noted the title and realised it was the same book he had been reading the week before – and smiled.

"Hermione", Harry said, sounding a little nervous. "This is Draco."

"Hello Draco", Hermione said and extended her hand to him.

"Hello." They shook hands. Her hand was warm and dry. "It's nice to meet you."

"It's nice to meet you too", Hermione said kindly. "Please, sit down."

"Great", Harry said and sat down immediately. He rubbed his hands against his thighs. "This is great. Just great. Isn't this great?"

"Yes, it's great", Hermione said, sounding amused. "So, Draco, how do you like it here at Hogwarts?"

"It's nice", Draco nodded. He had sat down on Harry's other side."It was hard to adjust at first but now I feel more at home."

"You went to Beauxbaton before, right?" She said 'Beauxbaton' with a flawless French accent.

"Yes, I did."

"I have read a little about it", Hermione confessed and Draco smiled.

"I read about Hogwarts before I came here."

"Really?" Hermione said, leaning forwards so that she could see Draco better. "Did you read _Hogwarts – A history_? It's a great book, isn't it?"

"Yes, it's very thorough", Draco agreed.

"Harry told me that you are born in England. Is that why you speak English fluently?"

"Yes, I lived here until I was ten. I speak English when I am at home with my family and French in school. Beauxbaton is a strict school", he explained. "I was forced to learn French quickly if I wanted to understand what the teachers spoke about."

"That's fascinating", Hermione said and Draco realised that she was genuinely interested in what he was saying. It was an entirely new experience for him. Except for Harry, nobody had shown any real interest in him before.

As if prompted by his thought, Harry cleared his throat suddenly and they both looked at him. "Should I just leave you two here, then? I mean, you seem to have a lot to talk about. I wouldn't want to get in the way."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "_Please_. If you ever read a book -"

Harry held up his hands to silence her. "I know, I know." He smiled at Draco. "That's her way of telling me to shut up. It's always like that, whenever I say something, whatever it is, she tells me that I should have read a book."

Hermione playfully smacked him over the back of his head and Draco laughed. He had never had a conversation flowing this smoothly with someone before and it almost made him giddy. The three of them stayed at the bench and talked for what seemed like hours and Draco couldn't remember ever feeling this happy or carefree. When it was too cold to stay outside, they walked together up to the castle and when they broke apart at the stairs Hermione hugged him good bye. That night was the first night that Draco went to bed with a light heart since the day he had moved to England.

.,.

Harry could not keep silent for a second longer. As soon as Draco had disappeared down the stairs he turned towards Hermione expectantly. "Well?"

Hermione laughed. "He seems nice."

"'Nice'?" Harry sighed as they started walking toward the Gryffindor Tower. "He's more than nice."

"Yes, I'm sure he is", Hermione said. "But this is the first time I've met him, so I don't have all the facts needed to decide whether I agree with you."

"That sounds like you", Harry smiled.

"Yes, of course", Hermione said. "Who else would I sound like?"

Harry bumped his shoulder against hers. "So, you liked him?"

"Yes."

"Good", Harry said, satisfied.

.,.

Now, even though Draco's first impression of Hermione had been a good one, everyone (Draco) knew first impressions could not be trusted. His father usually smiled at people right before he put them out of business or bought their house and threw them out on the street. Not that Draco was comparing Hermione to his father, but he knew better than to rely blindly on a one-time experience. And also, being the social pariah that he was, he had a tendency to forget the good things about a social encounter and only remember the bad ones. Like the fact that he had not laughed at one of Hermione's jokes.

In Draco's mind, that one mistake completely cancelled out the long dialogue about House elves that they'd had where they'd agreed on everything and Hermione had beamed at him, her smile brighter than the sun. And of course, in Draco's mind, not laughing at a joke was a _huge_ mistake, never mind the fact that you didn't find it funny, you laughed anyway because that was one of the ways you showed appreciation.

All of these thoughts bounced about in his brain when Draco woke up the morning after, giving him a headache worse than that time he'd gone two days without coffee. He thought back at the evening before and all he could focus on was that one stupid joke that he hadn't laughed at. Surely, Hermione thought him weird for not laughing when she and Harry both had laughed so much.

He groaned and hid his face behind his hands, pressing his palms hard against his eyelids. He couldn't even remember what the joke was about. Grass and something about the sky? And a book?

Crabbe's voice broke through his near-panic and the curtains around his bed were yanked open. "Good morning."

"Guh-" Draco slid further below his covers. "Close."

"Nope", Crabbe said happily. "It's time to get up. Breakfast."

"Yes, breakfast", said Goyle who had suddenly materialized beside his friend. "Good for you."

"Thanks", Draco muttered sourly. He didn't know why those two were so keen on taking care of him but it sure was getting on his nerves. "Leave." If they could use one-syllable sentences then so could he.

"What's up?" Crabbe, doing the opposite of what Draco wanted, sat down on the bed. "You sad?"

Draco frowned at him through the blanket covering his face. "No."

Completely ignoring Draco, Crabbe turned to Goyle with a questioning look on his round face. "Do you think it's about a girl?"

Goyle closed his eyes and nodded solemnly. "Yes, I think it is."

"_Merlin_." Draco threw the covers off himself, suddenly more eager to get away than to stay in his warm bed, hiding all day. "Let's go to breakfast then, yeah?"

"Yeah", Crabbe and Goyle said in unison and Draco's supposed depression was immediately forgotten as the three of them headed down to the Great Hall together.

Harry had been waiting for Draco to show up for almost twenty minutes. His eyes were practically glued to the entrance, only averted for brief moments when he took a sip of juice or nibbled carelessly at a piece of bread Hermione had forced him to accept earlier. When Draco finally showed up however, the joy was short-lived because he barely glanced at Harry when he made his way to his usual spot at the Slytherin table. Harry had raised his hand to wave but now let it slide into his hair, combing it, as if that had been his purpose all along. He cleared his throat and focused on his breakfast, not willing to acknowledge Hermione even when she hit him over the head with her Daily Prophet.

.,.

"Hermione!"

Hermione couldn't help the smile that spread wide over her face when she saw Ron. He was sitting up, relaxing against a couple of huge pillows – undoubtedly smuggled from the Hospital Wing – and waved her over with eager hands. "Look, look at me. I'm sitting. Brilliant, huh?"

"Yes, it's amazing", Hermione said with a genuine smile. "You're really feeling better?"

"Yes, loads better." Ron straightened, rolling back his shoulders as if physically trying to show her how much better he was. "Madame Pomfrey says I might get to leave to bed in a week or so." He grinned at her, his eyes glittering with an energy she had not seen in him in months. "So what have you got for me today, 'Mione?"

The nickname made her feel warm inside. He was the only one who called her that though she doubted he was aware of it. "A couple of essays and a few pages you have to read before Thursday. Do you feel up to it?"

Ron laughed merrily. "Are you kidding? Madame Pomfrey told me I'd be up in a week! I'm ready for anything you have. Bring it on." He gave her a challenging stare, though underneath it there were still traces of laughter.

Hermione smiled and handed him the pile of homework she'd collected for him and he ducked his head in a mock-bow, thanking her profusely in a way that made her laugh.

"Do you need anything else?" she asked, kind of hoping he would say yes so she would have an excuse to stay.

"Not really." Ron looked around the room as if searching for something she could do for him. He looked back at her. "Except company."

She smiled a little at that and settled herself in his bed. She leaned her back against the wall. Ron gathered the pile of work in his hands and leaned over the edge of the bed to place it all on the floor. When he resurfaced, he was holding a deck of cards in his hands. "You want to play?"

"Sure." Hermione nodded.

"Brilliant." Ron grinned. "Prepare yourself to -"

BANG.

They both looked up, towards the door. Harry had stumbled through it and was bending over, trying to catch his breath. It seemed like he had been running for hours; his lungs where wheezing, fighting for air.

"Merlin, Harry!" Hermione jumped up from Ron's bed and hurried over to him. She placed a hand on his back. "What are you doing?"

"Dying", Harry croaked. He fell to his hands and knees and Hermione feared he would start throwing up.

"You look worse than me, mate", Ron offered unhelpfully.

Hermione shot him a glare. "Come sit down, Harry." She got him to his feet by lifting his arm and letting him support himself on her shoulder. They stumbled to Harry's bed and she carefully eased him down on it before sitting down beside him, observing him worriedly.

After a few seconds of wheezing and choking, Harry's breath seemed to slowly return to normal, though his face was red and his pulse was racing. He drew a shaky breath, trying to steady himself. Both Hermione and Ron looked at him expectantly.

"I – I was, Merlin, I'm so tired. Can I get some water?" Hermione conjured a glass of water which he gulped down eagerly. "Thanks. Uh. I, I was chasing Draco..."

"_What?_" Hermione flew up as if the bed had suddenly burst into flames. "Don't tell me you -"

"Yeah." Harry hung his head though she couldn't decide whether it was from shame or exhaustion.

"What?" Ron said, confused. "Why were you chasing Draco? Weren't you friends like, a couple of seconds ago?"

"Yes, they were", Hermione said before Harry had time to answer. "I mean, they still _are_."

"Then why are you chasing him, mate?" Ron asked anxiously.

"Because Harry thinks he is avoiding him", Hermione said, a grim look on her face. "Honestly, Harry. Just because he didn't _wave_-"

"It's not just that!" Harry protested. "I tried to talk to him after breakfast too but he just brushed me off. Like I was some dirt he'd gotten on his shoe." Harry looked miserable. "I don't know what I did. He was fine yesterday when we were hanging out by the lake with you, Hermione. And now he's totally avoiding me. I don't know why he does that." He stared down at his feet. "So when he wouldn't talk to me and started walking away, I just... ran after him and then he started running too and it kind of turned into a chase. I lost him somewhere around the Slytherin Portrait and then I ran all the way up here."

Hermione listened to Harry's story, thoughtfully biting her lower lip and when he was finished, she sat down again. She sighed and rubbed her hands over her face once. "I think I know what's going on."

.,.

"These are for you."

Draco looked up from his book and found himself face to face with a bouquet of wild flowers. Behind them, a Harry smiling nervously. "I know this is incredibly corny."

Draco stared at him in disbelief. "You're – you're giving me flowers?"


	5. Chapter 5

_Hi! Sorry for taking so long with this chapter. Life got in the way. If anyone is still with me, here's a short one, just to get myself going again!_

**Chapter Five**

"Yeah", Harry said tightly and nodded once. "I hear that's what you give people to show your appreciation." He placed the beautiful bouquet of wild flowers on the table in front of Draco and carefully manoeuvred himself onto the attached bench opposite him. "I picked them myself. I even hurt my hand a little."

Draco looked at the flowers, a mixture of blue, red and velvet, and felt a strange churning in his stomach, something like hunger and worry mixed with a little bit of excitement."That's -" Draco waved his hand, searching for a word good enough to describe what he was feeling right that moment and failing horribly. "Uh."

Harry's eyes narrowed slightly, though the corners of his mouth twitched upwards as if he was a little amused. "That's 'uh'?"

Draco chewed on his lower lip and tilted his head to the side. "Well, it's – you know –" He waved his hand again, hating himself for how incredibly ineloquent he apparently was. Where was his words?

"Look." Harry cleared his throat. "I can see you're not impressed, so I'll try to explain. I'm -" He hesitated, taking a breath. "Well... I just wanted an excuse to, you know, be stupid and sentimental."

Draco waited because he didn't know what else to do. The flowers seemed to glower at him, as if they were a small fire, their heat burning his face. Or he could just admit that he was blushing.

Harry sighed, running his fingers through his hair. "Look", he said again. "I'm not trying to ask you to the ball or anything. I just, I have this thing I want to say and it's very, very, _very _awkward and stupid and I didn't know how to say it so I thought, hey, why not give him some flowers because what better way is there to initiate an awkward and stupid conversation?" Harry, impressively, said all this with one breath and Draco wanted to grab his shoulders and shake him because in what way was it necessary to use that many words to say so little? Where Draco lacked in ability to express himself, Harry seemed to have been blessed with too many words for his own good.

"I just, I wanted to tell you that I'm really happy that we are friends because it seems like you don't get it sometimes, how great you are, and you kind of withdraw from me and don't speak to me and it makes me really miss you and yeah – I just wanted to tell you that. That you are great. And I'm happy. And also sorry – for chasing you the other day." Harry pressed his lips together, as if shutting himself up, and then looked at Draco with wide, slightly hysterical, eyes.

Draco felt a wave of something – warmth? - wash over him and suddenly the corners of his mouth were twitching of their own will and he fought it because in no way did he want to smile at Harry now, but Harry caught on to the half-smile and his loopy grin made Draco's stomach twist.

In order to busy himself with something other than staring happily into Harry's eyes, Draco took the bouquet from the table and inspected it from every angle. "What kind of flowers are these?"

"I have no idea", Harry confessed. "I found them outside. Some of them are blue. I thought they'd match your eyes. Shit." Harry groaned suddenly, slamming his forehead into the table. "Cheesy. Sorry."

Draco shook his head. "You're a dork."

Harry smiled a little at that. "But you like me anyway?"

Draco returned the smile. "But I like you anyway."

_.,._

Harry climbed through the Portrait and Hermione's head immediately snapped up. He glanced over at her and gave a quick thumbs up, grinning as her eyes lit up with excitement, before continuing to the Dorms.

"Yes!" Hermione pumped her fist in the air, making Ron, who had been dozing off at the sofa beside her, startle. "I told you, didn't I?" She reached over and tapped his leg eagerly. "Didn't I?"

"Told me what?" Ron asked sleepily. He'd been lounging on the couch for most of the day and even though he'd hardly moved at all, he felt exhausted – his sickness made him feel like an old man.

"Flowers, Ron. _Flowers._"

Ron closed his eyes and nodded. "Yeah, I know. You told me."


End file.
